


Working Out the Kinks

by TCRegan



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: First Time, Kink Meme, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the kink meme prompt here: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11099.html?thread=43881563#t43881563</p><p>Anders is very tightly wound. Hawke offers some relief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Out the Kinks

He was always rolling his shoulders. Hawke knew that because he watched him. Not that he was a pervert, but Anders was fascinating just to look at. To say nothing of his unyielding crush on the healer, but it had only gotten worse over the last three years. Anders rejected his advances, and Hawke had tried, Maker knew he tried to get over him. But there was only so much he could do. He flirted with Isabela, took trips to the Rose, indulged more often than not in cold showers instead of hot ones that his estate actually could afford him (dwarven plumbing and enchantments were, after all, amazing). But none of it helped.

"Why not just use magic?" he asked him one day.

They were actually simply relaxing today, sitting along a not-so-rocky part of the Wounded Coast, watching the waves roll in. It was still too cold to go swimming, but it was a rare day that Hawke found himself without errands to run or parties to attend. Merrill and Isabela were building sandcastles, Varric was sitting on a rock, paper and pen in hand. Fenris and Sebastian were off on a walk. Only Aveline had stayed in the city, stating she had guard duties to take care of. Which left Hawke to sidle up next to Anders and sit down with him on a large woolen blanket. Anders seemed lost in thought, and Hawke watched him, saw him roll back his shoulders and tilt his head.

"Sorry?" Anders asked, looking at him, wind loosening a few strands of hair from his tie.

Hawke watched them flutter across his forehead, was about to reach up to tuck them back when Anders beat him to it. He awkwardly scrubbed at his own beard to cover.

"For your back. You hold yourself so stiffly. Why not just use magic to heal it?"

"Oh that." Anders shrugged, a tired frown tugging at his lips. "Magic can't cure everything. It's simply something I've learned to accept. It rarely bothers me."

Hawke was fairly sure that was a lie. "I could…" He made a suggestive grabbing motion with his hands to indicate a massage.

"Hm? Oh, that's all right. Thank you, Hawke."

Hawke sighed. Not that he would've minded touching Anders, but at least this time he didn't have ulterior motives. He simply didn't like seeing his friends in pain. Anders did reach over to touch his wrist.

"It's all right," he said again.

"If you ever change your mind," Hawke offered.

Anders, at least, smiled at him for that.

-

Two weeks later, Anders did take him up on it, appearing in the estate's foyer. Bodahn stepped into the library to let Hawke know he had a guest, and Hawke, who'd been forced into afternoon tea with yet another of his mother's old friends, gladly took the out. His beamed at Anders, who was looking apprehensive, and took his friend by the arm, dragging him inside and up the stairs.

"You just saved me from an entire afternoon and evening reminiscing about the 'good old days' while some snotty noblewoman insults my father."

"I did?"

"Your timing," Hawke said, shutting his bedroom door, "is impeccable. What's up?"

Anders frowned, brow furrowed slightly. "I don't know if you remembered what we talked about…"

"We talk about a lot of things, Anders. Be more specific?"

Anders shifted a bit, gesturing to his own back. "The. Ah."

"Oh! Yes. Of course." _YES!_ The little voice inside Hawke's head was doing flips and summersaults. He tried not to grin like a fool, fairly sure that would put Anders off entirely. "Go ahead and take off your coat. And shirt, too. It'll make this easier."

He crossed to his desk, rifling through a few things. The pot of lotion Isabela bought him was still mostly full. It had been a tongue-in-cheek gift, and he was fairly sure she wanted him to use it on _her_. But his puppy eyes had only ever been for Anders. Oh he did get some use out of the lotion of course, and there had been Anders, but only in his mind. Careful to keep a straight face, he turned, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that the object of his desire for the last three years was now was sitting on his bed, half naked.

"You always look so sad," Hawke said, before he could stop himself.

Anders looked up, eyebrows raised. "I do?"

"It's like the weight of Thedas is on your shoulders." Hawke slipped out of his house shoes and settled on the bed behind Anders, wondering what it would take to get him naked and lying down. _Baby steps, Hawke._

"I'll try to be less maudlin."

Hawke sighed, smoothing a bit of lotion into his palm, the warm scent of vanilla and cinnamon as he laid his hands on Anders' shoulders. "Maybe you should just do things that make you happy."

"I do," Anders insisted.

Hawke gently started to knead his shoulders. Quickly he realized that gentle wasn't going to cut it. Shifting to his knees for leverage, he pressed his fingers harder, thumbs smoothing over pale, slightly freckled shoulders. He frowned at the scars there, but said nothing, not wanting to dredge up some long-buried painful memory. Perhaps one day he'd ask, but not now.

"What do you do that's not mage-related that makes you happy?"

"I play diamondback with you every weekend."

It was true, they did gather to play cards in the Hanged Man. "Oh. I suppose there's that. Maker, Anders, your shoulders are terrible."

Anders laughed. "I had a friend who said the same thing. My sleeping arrangements haven't always been ideal."

_Come live with me and stay in my bed._

But Hawke didn't voice that thought out loud. He was a bit stuck on the friend who apparently did this for Anders, and was determined to be better. He also realized that was a bit pathetic. Anders let out a small, quiet moan that went straight to Hawke's groin.

_Stop being a pervert. He's a friend who trusts you._

"There?" Hawke asked, feeling the knotted, crunchy muscle.

"Yes." It was barely a whisper, and Anders' head fell forward, chin to chest.

Hawke continued to work the knot, thumb smoothing over the skin. He longed to lean down and kiss it, but propriety demanded he didn't. That, and the lotion didn't taste all that good, he knew from experience.

"If you lay down," he said carefully, "it'll give me a bit more leverage to get the others. And I could do your lower back."

Anders hesitated. "I don't…"

"Go on," Hawke said. "Take your boots off."

His hands lingered on Anders' shoulders, holding him there as if keeping him from running out of the room. Finally Anders leaned forward and undid his boots, sliding them and his socks off, leaving him clad in only his pants. Hawke moved back so he could stretch out, face-down on the mattress. He heard a happy sigh.

"Your bed is soft."

"It's Orlesian-made or so I'm told," Hawke said.

He paused, looking at Anders laid out on his bed, feeling a slight blush in his cheeks.

_Not the time for your fantasies._

Before he could stop himself, he straddled Anders' hips and dolloped just a bit more lotion on his back. If Anders found the position strange or uncomfortable, he didn't say anything about it. Hawke pressed the heels of his hands along his spine, watching the smooth glide of lotion on skin. He leaned forward to work the muscles of his shoulders before sliding back down to work the small of his back. Anders was mostly quiet, thank the Maker, though a small noise of contentment escaped his lips every now and again. Hawke kept his own hips as far as he could from Anders, not wanting his friend to know just how aroused he was.

"Oh Maker!" Anders hissed, burying his face into the mattress. "There."

It was a spot just under his left shoulder blade. Hawke pressed down, eliciting a low, sinful moan that did absolutely nothing to appease his arousal. His cock hardened, and he discreetly shifted, trying to pull the ends of his tunic a bit lower, lest Anders look back and see. The sounds Anders was making would fuel his fantasies for months.

"How-" Hawke started, then cleared his throat. "How's that?" he asked, voice barely a whisper as he relieved the knotted muscle.

"Mmph."

Hawke grinned.

"Thank you," Anders said a bit more coherently. "This was…"

"Was? We're not done yet."

Hawke didn't want him to leave. He took a bit more lotion in his hand and smoothed it over Anders' bicep, taking his arm in hand, shifting off him to do so.

"Hawke, you really don't-"

"Why not? Might as well get your money's worth."

Anders scoffed. "You're not being paid."

"Payment enough to have you in – Here," Hawke finished lamely. He didn't think saying, 'in my bed' would have gone over so well, and was thankful that Anders was facing the other way.

"…All right."

They fell silent again as Hawke gently rubbed the muscles in his arms, down to his wrists, and he somewhat reverently took Anders' hand into his own, thumbs rubbing slickly over his palm, examining the ink stained fingers. Anders had very long fingers, and Hawke's traitorous brain imagined them wrapped around his cock. And inside him.

"Fuck," he whispered, barely audible.

"Hng?" It sounded as though Anders had fallen asleep.

"Nothing. Other arm."

He repeated the same treatment to Anders' other arm, grateful when Anders turned his head, face half-hidden in the mattress. It was easier to do this if Anders wasn't looking at him. He reached his hand, and was trying to think of an excuse to return to his back when boldness and perhaps a bit of desperation overrode common sense. He moved down, adding more lotion, and slid Anders' pant leg up his calf.

"Hawke?"

"I'm very thorough."

Thankfully Anders didn't respond. The material bunched at his knee though, and Hawke swallowed hard, looking down at him.

"This would be easier if…"

A pause. Hawke had just started to regret it when Anders shifted, hips lifting up. His hands disappeared underneath him for a moment, then he slid the material down his thighs, leaving him in just his smalls. Hawke's breath caught, and he stared for a moment before pulling his pants the rest of the way down and off.

_Anders. In my bed. In his smallclothes._

Hawke, feeling a bit light-headed, took the massage up again in earnest. He started with both calves, watching the way Anders' toes curled before taking one of his thighs in hand. Anders' legs spread slowly, and Hawke had to clamp his lips shut, lest he start breathing like a perverted old man getting off on watching a show at the Rose. His thumbs dug carefully into the muscle as he worked back and forth, then he moved to the other.

Consciously or unconsciously, he wasn't sure how much control he had over himself at this point, his index finger brushed fabric, felt the heat of Anders' groin. Anders tensed, and Hawke felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, face flushed. This would either be the worst idea or the best thing that ever happened to him. He slid his hand up a bit more, the same finger pressing against the fabric of his smalls.

Anders responded. His legs spread again, just a little, and almost imperceptibly, he shifted toward Hawke's hand. Hardly believing it, Hawke moved his hand up, fingers now firm against the linen-clad sac. It was a dance, a test to see if this is what Anders wanted. Anders shifted again. Toward him. Legs apart now. Hawke didn't dare speak, thigh massage abandoned for the moment as he drew the backs of his fingers over the cloth, rubbing slowly.

"Ohh," came the shaking breath. Anders lifted his hips slightly.

Hawke's mouth was dry as he laid his hand flat, palm up, and slowly slid it underneath him. Anders pressed down, and Hawke felt the hardness there, his erection straining through his smalls. He let out a breath, licked his lips in anticipation.

"Hawke," Anders whispered.

"I'm very thorough with my massages."

He could've kicked himself. If he was even a bit more agile, he likely could've accomplished the foot-in-mouth literally.

"Good."

_Oh. Oh well that's…_

The voice in his head was now cheering again. His fingers curled around Anders' cock, gripping, feeling the weight. Anders groaned, hips pressing down. Hawke knelt between his legs, free hand coming up, hesitating, then pulling Anders' smalls down just far enough. Skin met skin, and Anders hissed, then moaned.

"Hawke… please…"

Hawke's hand, still slick with the lotion, stroked him slowly. The position was awkward and he moved quickly, hand coming up and around his side now, reaching down. He leaned over a little as Anders lifted up, on his hands and knees, smalls around his thighs as Hawke stroked him.

"Anders…"

"Hawke, please, I…"

"Anything," Hawke promised, leaning down to kiss the small of his back.

He stroked him, hand massaging the length, thumb gliding over the tip. He didn't even care about his own arousal, neglected for now as he listened to the noises Anders made as he touched him, watched his hips canting back and forth. He squeezed gently, mimicking what he liked when he did this for himself, thinking of Anders.

"Hawke," Anders panted. The name became almost a mantra on his lips as he thrust, as Hawke continued to fist him. "Faster."

They moved together, Anders almost frantic now, shoulders shaking from the effort of keeping himself upright. He let out a short, strangled, needy cry that might have been Hawke's name before he came, thrusting again into Hawke's hand. He collapsed after, rolling out of the wet spot almost immediately. Hawke lifted his hand, marveling at the pearly white fluid on his fingers. Only experience kept him from licking it clean. The lotion, after all, did not taste very good. He pulled his tunic off, figuring he could deal with laundry later and wiped his hand off, as well as most of the bed.

Anders, smalls twisted around his thighs, finally turned to look at him, and Hawke saw him for the first time, naked and sweating, chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon. His cock, softening now, lay nestled amidst honey-hued curls. He fought the desire to lean down and take it in his mouth, but wondered how long it would take before Anders was able to get hard again.

_I have stamina potions in the drawer…_

He realized he was staring at his friend's cock and blushed, looking up at him. "Sorry."

"Sorry? You… you give me the best massage ever administered possibly in the history of Thedas and you…" Anders laughed.

Hawke grinned, a bit embarrassed. "It… it was pretty good, wasn't it?"

Anders lifted his hips, pulling his smalls back up, and Hawke felt a slight sadness at the loss of the view.

"You could have one every night," Hawke said carefully. "If you lived here. With me. In my bed. Well, not living in my bed, that would be a bit awkward. But if you stayed here, I mean. Together."

Anders sat up slowly, wrapped those long fingers around Hawke's wrist and pulled him down for their first kiss. Hawke groaned at the loss, it was too brief, over too quickly. Anders was looking at him, smiling.

"Is that a yes?" Hawke asked, hopefully.

Anders nodded. "Yes, Hawke. I'll stay."

**Author's Note:**

> I need to get off the kink meme and get my butt in gear with editing Paid in Full. Sorry(notsorry) guys! <3


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